


Guiding Light

by Cristinuke



Series: Butterflies & Hurricanes [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Cock Rings, F/M, Light Bondage, Nightmares, Prostate Massage, dom!Natasha, sub!clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 10:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1684316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cristinuke/pseuds/Cristinuke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha deals with one of Clint's nightmares.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guiding Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PeachFire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachFire/gifts).



> "Deleted Scene" from Butterflies & Hurricanes. This can be considered chapter 5.5 from that fic, though I think you can read it as a stand-alone if you wanted (though you should totally read the other one too, lol). 
> 
> This was the other half of my birthday gift to my awesome beta, Tori, who is totally awesome. And incredible. And awesome. So awesome.

Natasha woke up with a start.

She didn't know what it was that had woken her and that made adrenaline pump through her veins. Sleep fading fast, she opened her eyes blearily, her hand already automatically reaching for her gun on the bedside table when a soft whimper made her pause. Suddenly she remembered she was in bed in her apartment, where she had fallen asleep with Clint beside her.

Her hand stopped reaching around, and she settled back in bed, ready to fall back asleep when she heard another whimper come from her side. She turned her head to see Clint's face scrunched up, expression twisted in pain as another soft, hurt noise escaped his clenched teeth.

"Clint?" Natasha ventured, voice sleep-soft. At her voice, Clint frowned deeper and shook his head, hands twitching as he wrapped his arms around himself. Natasha realized he was still asleep, and then her heart dropped when on his next whimper she figured out he was having a nightmare.

She hoped he'd ride it out, so that she didn't have to wake him; if she didn't have to, then he wouldn't have memories of it, and she didn't want him to have to be thinking about that. But it wasn't looking likely that he was going to be able to get rid of it himself, if his increasingly jerky movements and low hoarse gasps were anything to go by.

With a heavy heart, Natasha decided that he had to wake up before the nightmare got worse. She avoided trying to touch him, because she knew how paranoid agents like her were when being woken up, not to mention being woken up from the grips of a bad dream.

"Clint. Wake up." Clint stirred, and mumbled something that sounded like a plea. "Clint, c'mon, it's just a dream." Natasha tried, voice soft and unthreatening.

"Please, don't-, no, I can't-" Clint was muttering and breathing hard now; his knuckles were turning white from clenching so tightly.

"Wake up, Clint. You're having a nightmare. C'mon, come back." Natasha propped herself on an elbow, forcing her hand back when all she wanted to do was reach out to him.

"I can't, no-, please-, no, no, no, don't make me-, please," He was making wounded noises as his teeth chattered. Natasha watched as he started sweating and shivering violently and then shaking his head tightly, fighting off his dream attackers. Dry sobs were being wrenched from his chest.

"Clint. Wake. Up. Now." Natasha's voice raised in pitch, trying to rouse him. "Clint!"

Clint's eyes suddenly snapped open and before Natasha knew it, she was slammed back into the bed with Clint's weight pinning her down, wrists forced into the mattress by heavy hands. Natasha made no movement as she took in the panting man above her. His eyes were wide and frightened as he shook, gasping as he looked around the room quickly before letting his gaze fall back on Natasha.

He froze, still for several breaths, tense and wired on top of her, but finally a hint of recognition slipped into his eyes, and on his next harsh breath, he gritted out, "Tasha?" 

"Hey, you were having a nightmare." Natasha breathed out quietly, not wanting to spook him. She hadn't made a movement to get him off, wanting to appear as nonthreatening as possible. She offered him a small smile, meant to be reassuring.

Clint panicked then.

He scrambled off of her and moved to the other side of the bed, gasping out apologies, "Oh god, Natasha, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to- god, I could have hurt you, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." His breathing was picking up as his eyes widened, going from staring at Natasha to glancing around and shaking his head again.

Natasha moved slowly, lifting herself on her elbow again with her other hand coming up in a sign of peace as she tried to calm him down, "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm fine, see? Nothing to worry about." She tried for a smile again, but Clint had lost it, and his breathing had gone from shaky panting to full out hyperventilation, the panic clear in his eyes. He had his arms wrapped around himself again, pulling his knees against his chest and making himself look small.

"Shh, breathe, Clint, it's okay. We're in my apartment, remember?" Natasha moved so that she was kneeling in front of Clint, still unsure of whether he could stand to be touched yet. "We were watching a movie, and we fell asleep. We ate pasta, remember? Breathe, Clint." Clint shook his head again, closing his eyes tight, still desperately sucking in way too much air.

"Clint, look at me now." Natasha commanded. Clint's head snapped up at that, and he met her eyes, still shaking. "Good. Good boy." Natasha praised. Clint's head started to drop down again, but Natasha snapped, "Keep your eyes on me. Good. Now breathe in." Clint sucked in air. "Hold it." Clint tried, but failed and the air came rushing out, just to be replaced by more.

"Clint, breathe in." He did. "Hold it." He tried.

Natasha kept it up, telling him to breathe, to hold it, and finally he started calming down enough to wait for Natasha to tell him to breathe out. He let it out in a shaky _whoosh_ , but he was focusing completely on Natasha, and followed her every word. They were like that for several long minutes, Natasha telling him when to breathe, and Clint complying, until he had calmed down completely, breathing silent.

Finally everything was silent again. The two watched each other wearily, until Natasha cautiously lifted her hand and held it out to Clint. Hesitantly, Clint reached out to place his hand in hers as he breathed out. Natasha didn't say anything as she lightly tugged on his hand and he followed. She pulled him in until she maneuvered them both into lying down on the bed again, heads on the pillows and facing each other.  

They stayed like that, eyes watching eyes. Natasha spoke up quietly, "He can't hurt you anymore, Clint." He closed his eyes at that, and turned into the pillow slightly. Natasha brought a hand up to brush against his jaw and Clint opened his eyes again, expression guarded and cautious.

Natasha knew he wasn't going to talk about it tonight. She was fine with that, he'd talk when he was ready, and she wasn't going to push this issue. So instead she just asked, "Can you fall asleep again?"

Clint shook his head, and mumbled his 'No' into the pillow, closing his eyes again. "I don't want to-, don' wann have to see…that, again." His voice was soft and filled with a sorrow that tore at Natasha's heart. "Don' wanna think."

"Do you want me to think for you?" Natasha asked. She'd never asked before, and Clint's eyes snapped wide open at her. He stared at her for a few minutes, eyes narrowing and widening as he thought through her offer.

Finally he came to a conclusion. "Yeah," He cleared his throat, "umm, yes." Natasha smiled at him, and got her hands underneath herself to push up from the bed. Clint stayed where he was as he watched her swing her legs over the bed and get up. She walked to her dresser and crouched down to open the bottom drawer. She pulled out some things and straightening up, she closed the drawer with her foot as she turned around.

"Get in the middle of the bed. Face up." Natasha ordered as she made her way back to the bed. Clint moved slowly, but purposefully, still observing Natasha's actions. She walked to one side of the bed, and reached down to gently circle his right wrist in a light grip. She deliberately tugged on his wrist and Clint watched as she fastened a soft-lined cuff where her delicate fingers had been. After fastening it, she pulled the arm above his head and latched the D-ring on the cuff to a restraint at the headboard of the bed. Clint tugged on it experimentally as Natasha made her way to the other side of the bed. Clint was so focused on tugging on his bound wrist, that he didn't bother reacting to Natasha cuffing his other wrist and latching it to the other side of the headboard until she had finished. Only then did he start paying  attention to that wrist, and began tugging on that one.

Natasha stood back, watching Clint play around with the cuffs for a while before Clint remembered she was still there, and turned towards her in question, eyebrow arching as if to say "what next?".

Natasha drank in the sight of Clint bound on her bed. He was wearing a thin t-shirt and some sweatpants that had made their new home in one of Natasha's drawers. She smiled as she showed Clint the last object in her hand. It was dull silver, and round, and Clint's eyes widened a bit when he saw it. Natasha gave him a questioning look, and Clint just breathed out, "Yes," nodding even though he looked nervous.

Natasha patted his thigh and slipped onto the bed to kneel by Clint's side. She gripped the tops of his sweatpants and pulled them down, taking the time to untangle his legs and feet from each pant hole. He wasn't wearing underwear, and Natasha could see his cock lying against his thigh, soft. Clint looked away when he was exposed, but Natasha lightly pinched his thigh to get his attention again. Clint watched as she tapped his outside calf so that he'd spread his legs for her. Clint complied, and spread them even further when Natasha shifted over to settle herself in between in thighs.

His cock gave a small twitch of interest when she reached out to caress his thighs, and Clint breathed out slowly when her hand reached up to give it a slow stroke. His cock definitely started showing interest when she kept up her strokes, nice and easy as he filled out in her hand. He was fully hard and starting to breathe a little harder before he knew it, though this time, his breathing wasn't tinged with panic, but rather with easy arousal.

Clint had closed his eyes without noticing, but he opened them again to peer down at what Natasha was doing when he felt warm metal touch his cock. Clint groaned when he felt Natasha secure the cock ring around the base of his erection, but he felt nothing but excitement. Natasha chuckled softly at his reaction and kept stroking him lightly, thumb grazing over his glans and sending shivers down his muscles.

Clint relaxed further into the bed, occasionally pulling at his restraints, but overall enjoying the sensations Natasha was giving him. He felt her fingers everywhere, on his cock, along his thighs, inside the crease of his crotch, and then further down. When her fingers brushed lightly against his exposed hole, Clint gave a helpless moan at the touch.

Natasha kept swiping back and forth across his hole, and listened to Clint huffing out little puffs of air through his teeth. Natasha picked up the bottle of lube she had brought with her, and poured some out on her fingers. She slicked up his cock, making him groan at the smooth glide. She poured some more out, covering her fingers with the stuff and smeared her fingers between his ass cheeks, teasing around his hole. Clint twitched and shifted his hips a little, giving Natasha an idea.

Grabbing the undersides of his thighs, she said "Scootch up, here." She lifted his thighs and shifted under him so that her legs stretched out on either side of his waist, and his hips tilted up towards her, legs resting on her thighs.

Clint closed his eyes as a blush appeared high on his cheeks; the new position made him feel vulnerable as it exposed everything. His cock gave a jerk and he pulled on the restraints. His eyes flew open and he let out a gasp when Natasha's finger returned to breach his hole.

"Easy, you're okay." Natasha murmured as she slowly pushed inside and out, adding more lube to ease the intrusion. She kept her finger in slow motion, letting Clint get used to her and allow his muscles to relax around her. When he'd relaxed enough for her to push all the way in, she added more lube and started the whole process again with two fingers nudging against him. Clint moaned at the stretched feeling, and he yanked on the restraints, clenching around her fingers. Natasha waited patiently, rubbing his thigh with her free hand and occasionally coming up to give him a stroke to his neglected cock.

The combined comforting and arousing gestures made Clint loosen his muscles and allowed her to resume her exploration. She added lube to the already sticky mess, making the glide as smooth as possible, and Clint was starting to hum in contentment. She pushed and spread her fingers, stretching the muscle, and then she crooked both her fingers, dragging along the insides. Clint started at the new sensation that it caused but he just exhaled in pleasure.

It wasn't until her fingers dragged along a new spot that Clint jolted, hips jerking upwards as Clint cried out in surprise.

"Ah, there it is." Natasha said, smiling sweetly as she rubbed along the same spot, making Clint shudder in her hands. Clint moaned when she removed her fingers and added a third, stretching him even more.

Clint was turning into putty. Natasha could see as his body relaxed more and more, muscles twitching involuntarily as she passed by his prostate occasionally. He always let out a noise when that happened, ranging from quiet whimpers to loud moans. His aching hole was loose around her fingers now, and his cock was starting to bead precome at the tip.

Clint's eyes were closed again, and he inhaled sharply, turning his face into his shoulder as Natasha pressed along his prostate again, rubbing into it carefully but insistently. She started focusing more on that sweet spot than stretching, and Clint started to whimper continuously as she refused to give him a break. Her other hand started cradling his balls, lightly squeezing and rolling them, pressing in with fingers and rubbing with her thumb. Clint took to pulling against the restraints again, and started shifting his hips back and forth, unsure of whether to push back against her fingers or up into her hand stroking his cock.

Natasha grinned genuinely as she watched Clint losing his control and letting his body take over; his hips rolled when she crooked her fingers, digging pointedly into the swollen gland. Clint choked on a moan and couldn't help the shaking that was setting in. Natasha was keeping everything nice and slow, not giving into his increasingly-frantic whines, and just letting him feel everything.

She was taking her time, switching between swipes along the prostate, spreading her fingers to keep him stretched, massaging his balls and slowly stroking his leaking cock. She was so focused on her task that she almost missed the stifled sob Clint made into his shoulder. When she stilled in the middle of stroking his gland, Clint gave another hitched sob and a shudder ran through his body.

"Hey, hey, sweetie, look at me." Natasha cooed, slowly removing her fingers as gently as she could. Clint gave a feeble whimper and shook his head, as he raised his hips desperately to chase her hand that she had moved away. 

"Clint, am I hurting you?" Natasha asked, suddenly worried that she was doing something wrong. She'd thought he was enjoying himself, but she must have missed something. Clint just shook his head again, frantic, but he still refused to look at her.

"Are you sure? What's wrong, Clint? If I'm hurting you, it's okay to tell me." Natasha rested her hands on either side of his thighs, thumbs slowly rubbing along the sweaty skin there.

Clint shook his head and voice thick, mumbled, "No, it d-doesn't hurt." She heard him sniffle as he tried to suppress another sob. "It f-feels, _g-good._ " His hips gave another twitch and his cock leaked some more precome that dribbled down the side.

Natasha let go of the breath she was holding, and gave a slightly hysterical chuckle. "Oh, baby, it's _supposed_ to feel good." She brought a hand to his cock again and gave it a light stroke, causing Clint to gasp and shudder. Her other hand returned to his hole, and deft fingers pushed their way inside to find his prostate with unerring accuracy. She resumed her massage on the poor, over-stimulated glan as she said warmly, "You're being _so_ good, Clint. You deserve to feel _good_." She accentuated each point with a deliberate stroke. Clint whimpered helplessly, and Natasha could see tears running down his cheeks.

She kept it up, pleasuring and praising Clint until he was openly sobbing into his shoulder and his cock was leaking steadily. His thighs were trembling uncontrollably under the strain of being spread wide open.

"You've been so _good_ , Clint, and _good_ boys deserve to come." Her hand, which had been pumping and teasing his cock, slid down to the base, only to flick open the ring there. Tossing the toy aside, she continued her light strokes, and simultaneously pressed into his prostate, insistent pressure rubbing into the gland.

Clint choked back a scream and came, muscles convulsing and body vibrating as ropes of white painted his sweat-soaked shirt. Natasha slowed her movements as Clint shuddered through his aftershocks.

Finally, Clint went limp on the bed, limbs twitching reflexively as he breathed heavily against his arm, with occasional sniffles. Natasha gently withdrew her fingers, making Clint whine softly at the empty feeling left behind.  Natasha moved around Clint's unmoving body, reaching up to unlatch his cuffs. When one wrist came free, she pressed his hand into the bed where they were, silently asking him to wait and keep his arm where it was. Clint didn't think he could move anyway, and left it alone. She undid the other cuff and did the same to that arm. Clint didn't know what she was doing until he felt her hands around his midriff; she was gently lifting his ruined t-shirt, sliding it up until she carefully pulled it over his head and up and off his arms. She threw the shirt behind her on the floor, and then helped Clint bring down his arms when he still hadn't moved them. Clint felt heavy and appreciated the soothing touches Natasha was rubbing into his shoulder, arm and wrist, to then lay it tenderly by his side, just to do it to his other arm.

Natasha took off her own shirt, and used it to finish cleaning up the worst of the mess of his stomach and crotch. She wiped his cock and thighs quietly, and then did her best to get rid of the mess between his legs and ass cheeks; she threw her shirt to join his on the floor when she was satisfied with her work.

Natasha reached down to grab the thick comforter and pulled it up to cover them both as she laid back on the bed. Clint found the strength to turn towards her, and then, feeling too far away, he reached out a shaky hand to her. Natasha immediately took it and snuggled in closer, shifting around so that Clint's head was in the crook between arm and chest.

Satisfied, comforted and exhausted, Clint closed his eyes and started drifting off. He thought he heard her whisper, "You are so good, Clint," but he fell asleep before he could ask.

Clint slept well the rest of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! :D


End file.
